One Short Sleep Past
by liftedlorax
Summary: Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. OR: Veronica deals with guilt, anger, love and tragedy after Logan breaks up with her.


**Title: **One Short Sleep Past  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Veronica, Logan/Parker ( Ensemble)  
**Word Count: **9,539  
**Rating:** R for drug use, and language, and, um…sadness?  
**Summary:** Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. _Or:_ Veronica deals with guilt, anger, love and tragedy after Logan breaks up with her.  
**Spoilers/Warnings: **All aired episodes. Doesn't spoil the rapist, though. Also, lots of mentions of character death. It's kinda a theme here.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. I also don't own John Donne's Sonnet X. Please don't sue me.

**A/N: **Um, you've probably read this already on LJ, cause it's been posted there for like a week, but I couldn't post it on here, even though I really wanted to (site was being a jerk). So now I'm posting it. It's really, really sad, guys, so beware. Also, you probably will all hate me for this. Just remember: I do ship L/V. I just love Parker. A lot. And I think she and Logan would be hot. And I was really pissed at Veronica after 3.8. Not so much anymore, but...yeah. Here we go.

**_-One short sleep past, we wake eternally. And death shall be no more.-_**

As much as she dreads going to Mac's room these days, she really, _really _needs her laptop back. She just hopes that Mac's finished fixing it for her, because she seriously needs to finish that term paper, and the computers in the library wheeze viciously at her when she uses them. Really, they scare her.

It's when she hears the sobbing that she realizes that something's wrong. She pushes her way through the door that's ajar, and she sees Lamb and Sacks standing there awkwardly while a red-eyed Mac holds a distraught Parker on her bed, and Veronica feels the floor drop from underneath her, and she's falling, falling, and she doesn't think she'll ever stop.

"What happened?" she breathes out, even though it's like getting sucker-punched in the stomach. Parker doesn't look at her, just sobs harder into her roommate's shirt. Mac opens her mouth to say something, but then lets out a small, distressed sound and clamps it shut again. Veronica looks at her friend's face and finds herself back in a hotel room again, back in a dark, starless night, where she watched a teenage murderer give himself up to that starless night. It's another sucker-punch, only worse, because what could be that horrible? Except, deep down, she knows. How could she not?

Lamb has no comment or quip as he gently tells her to sit down. And what the fuck, where did Lamb go? But she sits obediently, like a dog, and waits for her world to crash around her.

"Logan Echolls was—well, no one had seen him for a while, and Miss Lee tried to file a report, but since it wasn't—wasn't 48 hours or anything, we didn't do anything. Earlier today, though, we—we pulled his SUV out of the water. It was only—only about a five foot drop from the embankment but—the front of the truck is gone, Veronica. We think it hit the rocks on the way down. There's no way—"

"No," a tearful, angry voice spits out, and it's not Veronica's. Parker has raised her head to look at the somber sheriff. "There was—there was no body, you have to keep looking, he's _not dead._"

"Miss, I'm sorry—"

"No!" she screams, and she's on her feet and she's near hysterics and Mac's behind her, sniffling and trying to calm her down. "God, do you not get it? _He's not fucking dead._"

"Oh God," slips out of Veronica's mouth, and this isn't really happening, is it? It can't be. "Oh, God, no."

Lamb still looks regretful. "There are still—still rescue teams looking for him, but the chances—I'm so sorry." And the thing is, he really looks sorry, and that's how fucking bad this is. "We'll keep you updated—"

"NO! No, you stupid son of a bitch! He's not dead, okay? You need to—you need to find him, and help him—he's hurt, he's somewhere out there—"

But Parker's voice and Lamb's soft arguments are fading away from her now, and all she can think about is a pounding on her front door, Logan's voice, broken and pleading, begging her to let him in.

"Oh, God, I killed him."

The other four inhabitants of the room freeze, then turn to look at her, and she feels herself sinking, sinking into the floor and the darkness and God, no, this can't be happening.

"What did you just say?" Parker bites out, and her voice is ice, frozen by fear and anger and grief.

"I—I—" But she can't just say it, can't spit it out, because how do you voice something like that out loud? You can't, not really, because saying it out loud means it actually, really happened, and that is just—not acceptable right now. Because no matter what Parker's screaming, Logan's dead and fuck, it's her fault, completely her fault, and how is she supposed to say it?

__

-Death, be not proud.-

"_God, please, Veronica, please, just open the door!"_

_She folds her arms across her chest and squeezes her eyes shut, steeling herself in her resolve. "No, Logan."_

"_Please, you don't understand—"_

"_I understand that I'm not your girlfriend anymore—" He'd made that very, very clear to her over the past four months. "—and that you have a new one that gets the super-fun job of cleaning up your messes now."_

"_This isn't a—Veronica, I need your help, please!"_

_Rain is pounding against her window, probably soaking him to the bone out there on her porch, and she doesn't care. No. Check that. She does care. She cares too fucking much. And that's why she can't open that door. Because he's not hers to care about anymore. _

"_I'm really not in the mood to give it right now, Logan."_

"_Jesus—" She thinks she can hear him shivering, hear his teeth clicking together from the cold, and she braces her shaking arms around herself. No. _

_If she looks out through the glass panes of her door, she'll see him slumped against it, fighting to stand upright, barely holding himself together. But she doesn't look, so she doesn't see him. _

"_No, not Jesus— Veronica, actually. Though I can see how you might make the mistake." Veronica's actually amazed at her own audacity—what the fuck right does she have to make jokes when she's being such a cold, heartless bitch to him? But then she thinks about what a cold, heartless dick he was to her when he dumped her—except he wasn't, not really, but tell that to her pathetically broken heart—and she's not so amazed anymore._

"_Veronica, I—look, I—I took something, okay? I didn't want to, but me and Mercer were hanging out, and I think I took too much—I don't feel right, and I don't think I can drive anymore, and I'm really fucking scared, please—"_

_And she feels herself start to break, which is _not fucking good._ So she searches herself for that huge reservoir of righteous anger she keeps on lay-away for him. Ah, there it is. "Again, it's not my problem you're a fucking moron, Logan. It's Parker's. Seriously, call her, or call a cab, but get away from me." _

_There's a thump outside of the door, and she pictures him on his knees and she's shaking like crazy and there are tears on her face, but no, fucking no, she won't open that door. Not when he dropped her like she was a fucking afterthought—a nuisance, _her_, too difficult to deal with anymore—and then started dating her friend's roommate not two weeks later. Not when he hurt her more than she'll ever admit, more than he can ever imagine hurting her. No._

"_Please," Logan chokes out again, and she hears him sob against her door once, and she stays silent. But now the overwhelming urge to throw the door open and take him in her arms is getting to be too much—and she's crying harder than ever, and this is fucking killing her, and maybe she should just—but no—_

_In the three minutes it takes her to come to a decision and swing the door open, he must manage to crawl away from her, because her doorstep is empty when she does. For a few seconds, she blinks out into the dark, wet night, trying to figure out if he was really ever there, if maybe it was just a nightmare, and she hadn't really, actually been that horrible to him. But then guilt punches her in the gut and she realizes, no, it was real, that was really him, and that inhuman beast of a person was really her. _

_She sees his cell phone, then, glinting silver on the step, and she feels hurt stab her as she irrationally thinks that maybe he left it there just to spite her, just to prove a point and make her feel guilty. And she digs into that righteous anger reservoir again and kicks the cell phone off the porch, before slamming the door shut behind and pressing her back to it firmly._

_It's only then that she realizes he probably just dropped it._

_Whoops._

Parker's not speaking to her. Parker wasn't really speaking to her much before, not unless she had to, but now it's a different kind of silence. Then, Parker was just oblivious to everyone who wasn't Logan. Now, Parker hates her almost as much as hates herself, and that's why she's not talking to her.

But nobody can hate Veronica as much as Veronica hates herself. It's just—not possible. Not at all.

She hadn't seen Parker and Logan coming, even though she should have. She was still up on her high horse, looking down her nose at him while she waited for him to come to his senses and realize he had made a mistake. So she didn't notice that Logan no longer had longing gazes, melancholy eyes and love-filled looks for her. No, he had them for Parker. She just didn't notice until that night at Mac's dorm room, watching old movies and snarking about the inferior male race, when Parker and Logan had fallen through the unlocked door, lip-locked and slightly sheepish. Veronica had gaped at them for about six minutes while they fumbled and stuttered with apologies and "We didn't want you to find out this way." Then Logan pecked Parker quickly on the lips and left, leaving the taller blonde to smile timidly at her roommate and her friend.

She explained that it had happened quickly; they shared a class, had grabbed a few coffees since that first bowling night, nothing serious. She'd wanted to make sure that Logan was over Veronica, that he wasn't hurting anymore, so she was surprised when he asked her out. So surprised, she said, that she said yes. Parker just hoped that it was okay.

It wasn't okay; not at all. But of course, Veronica didn't say that. She'd plastered on a fake, cheerful smile and perked that it was fine, just fine, she was _completely _over Logan. Parker had given her the kind of sympathetic look that told her that she knew she was full of shit, but she hadn't commented on it, choosing blissful ignorance and a fresh, new relationship over an awkward and uncomfortable new friendship.

And so began the joining of Neptune's very own, brand new golden couple. Veronica would've been happy for them if she wasn't so bitter and jealous, though she'd never admit it. They had fun together, Logan and Parker. Every time she saw them together, they were laughing or smiling or playfully shoving or slapping or touching in some way. They basked in a new couple glow for weeks, long after such a glow usually fades. They were—God, so happy. Veronica can't remember seeing him that ridiculously happy with her. It hurt. A lot.

When Logan broke up with her, she was so sure of herself—so sure that he'd figure things out and then beg her to come back to him. His relationship was Parker was like a huge kick in the stomach, and it certainly knocked her off her high horse. Veronica realized just how much she _missed _Logan. And yeah, finally—how much she loved him.

And of course, it was too late. Of course.

Now Veronica's figuring out that it's kind of hard to live without Logan. And again, she's figured this out too late, only now it's kind of permanent—there's no fixing this now.

Parker doesn't cry at the memorial that Dick and Trina put together. She doesn't speak to anyone. She stands stoically and silently, fists clenched at her sides, glaring at the guests milling around in Logan's suite at the Grand. Mac tries to comfort her, tries to talk to her, but the blonde shrugs her off, and Veronica watches her friend's face crumple with sympathy before taking a place again at Piz's side, who looks solemn, if uncomfortable.

No one talks to Veronica, no one except for Wallace, who doesn't get a response back. Words aren't coming easy for her these days, and sentences seem like too much effort to put together. Her stomach hurts like nothing she's ever felt, and she thinks her heart might've sunk into it, throbbing there and spreading it's blackness.

No one talks to Veronica until Mercer suddenly shows up, shoulders slumped and eyes weary as he shifts from foot to foot, uncharacteristically quiet and nervous. When he sees Veronica, he opens his mouth and starts to say something to her, but Parker is suddenly there.

"I think you should leave," she says icily, and Veronica realizes suddenly that she's talking to both she and Mercer. When neither of them move, she tightens her arms around her chest and shrieks, "Go! Leave, now!"

Mac is there, and Wallace, like two shadows, trying to calm the devastated girl down. "Parker, I'm so—" Mercer starts, but it's cut off again by her hand, slapping across his face with a resounding _smack. _He looks stunned, but nods solemnly and turns to leave, and for a second, his eyes are shining like he might be crying, but she probably imagines it. Now Parker looks like she wants to slap Veronica, as if that will get her to leave, but she's staying, and she can't really think she's just going to leave this.

"You have no right to be here," the taller blonde says, gritting her teeth together in anger. Veronica feels tears well up, because she's been thinking the same damn thing, except—she loves him. That gives her a right, doesn't it? But it's also her fault. So maybe that cancels out the love thing.

"Parker," Mac says softly. "Veronica cared about Logan too—"

"If she cared about him so much she would've opened the door for him," she spits, and she's so, so angry and Veronica doesn't blame her. Can't blame her, because she's angry too. Fuck, she should've opened the door for him, she should've gotten over herself and helped him. She _knew _he was high and she knew he couldn't drive and she sent him straight into the ocean.

She should've told him she loved him and begged him to take her back and done everything she could to keep him with her.

She should've loved him from the start and trusted him and treated him better.

She should've started things up again with him sooner, gave them more time together, told him how she really felt.

She should've stuck by him that first summer, worked for their relationship and made it last and helped him through everything more.

She regrets everything, and wants no release from guilt's steely clutches; she deserves anything she gets.

But she doesn't leave; can't leave, because this is it, this is goodbye, and there's no body to bury but this is it for Logan and he's dead and how is this even real? It's not real, it can't be real, because she can't imagine a world without Logan. She can't imagine leaving here and continuing on with her life without him; it just seems so impossible, so incomprehensible, and _this isn't happening. _

It can't be.

Veronica thinks that it's the body that sets Parker off. She hears rumors around campus that Parker had been asked to id one they thought might be Logan. Veronica throws up in the middle of class and then hightails it off campus. Her father has stopped home to grab something and finds her, a huddled, crying mess on the sofa, and thinks it's her breakdown. She doesn't tell him that she's been slowly, methodically breaking down ever since she found out, and that this? Won't be the last of it. Not by a long shot.

Keith sits down next to her and puts an arm on her back. "It's okay to be upset, Veronica," he tells her. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you."

"No, you can't," she tells him. "You can't imagine being the reason that someone you love is dead." It's the first time she's ever said it out loud, that she loves him, and she quite likes it. She tells herself that if he were here, she would make a point to tell him. Every day. No matter what.

Nothing squashes your pride quite like making one, huge, fatal mistake out of the coldness of your heart.

Her father is reluctant to leave her, and while Veronica doesn't exactly beg him to stay, she can't reassure him that's she fine, either. It's not in her to pretend, anymore, just like she won't pretend that she's just the disdainful ex or that she's going to just move on from this, keep on going and pushing forward. She should pretend, but she can't, not after pretending for so long with Logan, and not after what it cost her.

He tells her that the case is quick, it won't take long, and he'll be back in no time. She just nods slowly, barely paying attention, and he leaves. Ten minutes later, Parker shows up.

"Oh, good. So you _do _know how to open your door," she snarks bitchily, and Veronica swallows hard but looks the taller girl in the eyes.

"Was it—" But she can't finish. Words are still coming hard for her these days, and finishing sentences are so much of an effort. And how do you ask a question when you really, really don't want the answer?

"It wasn't him," Parker tells her, though from the way she's shaking slightly, you would think it was the opposite. "And it's never going to be him, because he's not dead. I know it. And I want you to help me prove it."

Veronica hadn't expected this. "You—what?"

Parker chuckles coldly, and this is a different girl than the one she knows. She's not warm or happy or perky or sparkly. She's done with pretending, kind of like Veronica is, and that's strange for her. "Oh, come on, Veronica. Don't play dumb. This is what you do, right? Detective Mars, crusader of truth. You'll get it no matter what it costs you. Now, how many times did it cost you Logan?" She pauses, as if waiting for an actual answer, and when she can't give her one, she continues. "Right. So. This is a truth, okay? I know it. Logan isn't dead. And I know that you'd give anything to make sure of that. Because if he isn't dead, then you're not a murderer." Parker smiles bitterly, and her eyes are shining with ice and tears. "You're just a heartless, cold, shell of a human being."

She swallows again and ducks her head. "Parker—"

"Don't. Don't patronize me and tell me I'm nuts and how there's no way—_I know, _okay? I know he's still alive." Parker wipes viciously at tears slipping down her cheeks, and she glares at Veronica almost savagely. "Look, I know you don't want me to start gushing about how in love with him I am and how special our time together was, so just—agree already and—and give him a chance, for once." She holds her glare, eyes burning with intensity, and suddenly, Veronica sees Lilly Kane in her eyes, fierce and vivacious and fiery to no end. "You owe him this."

And the sad thing is, Veronica agrees with her. Veronica thinks that she at least should try, should just try a little. She'd never tried much when she was with Logan; maybe it's time that she starts.

And this is unhealthy. This is ridiculous and childish and so, so not what she should be doing. She should be stopping this, not encouraging it, and grabbing Parker by her shoulders and shaking her and making her realize that yes, Logan is dead, and no, he isn't coming back. There's no reality to this, just denial, denial with a side order of ignorance.

But—but. But this seems easier. This seems more useful. It's easier; it's this, or facing up to the fact that he's dead—that he really, really isn't coming back. And doing that might just kill her—destroy whatever's left in her, break her beyond repair. And facing up to the fact that he's dead—that'd be giving up on him, and she's not ready to do that, not again, and not ever again.

It's not in her to pretend anymore—pretend she doesn't care, pretend she doesn't love him, lie to herself and everyone else. So she's going to care and she's going to love and she's going to help this poor, broken girl in front of her who seems to have fallen for Logan ridiculously, completely and unconditionally—and isn't afraid to let everyone know it.

So Veronica lifts up her face and looks her squarely in the eyes. "Okay. I'll help you."

The first lead is Mercer Hayes, really. He's where it all began—he's given statements to the police, but Lamb pretty much hates Parker now as much as he hates Veronica, what with her practically camping out in the sheriff's department the days before the service. So they have to find him and force him to talk.

The girls can barely stomach talking to the guy, especially Parker, so it's Veronica who gets the pleasant job of getting info out of him, while Parker waits in the hallway in his dorm, glaring at anyone who walks by and looks at her. Veronica pounds on Mercer's door, getting increasingly impatient with each passing minute when he doesn't answer it. Finally, someone who's obviously an RA spots her.

"Whoa—if you break the door, you're gonna have to pay for it, you know. Ain't coming out of my pocket."

Parker comes up behind Veronica, gritting her teeth together, eyes flashing dangerously. "Cut the crap, okay? Where's Mercer?"

The RA rolls his eyes. "Ah. Spurned lovers. Makes sense. Let me guess, he slept with both of you, told you were special, then never called either one of you. Right?"

Veronica flares up. There's no room for a good cop here, and neither of them are in the mood for bullshit. Which is kinda funny, considering what they're trying to do. "Great, now I need a bleach-bath. No, we need to talk to him. It's not sex-related at all, thank God."

"Sorry, girlies, Mercer dropped out like, last week," the RA tells them, and Veronica seethes. "Just packed up all his shit and took off. I think after what happened with his friend, you know, it was just—" Suddenly, Parker has the guy pinned up against the wall, locking one arm across his chest and grabbing his ear with the other. "Ow, Jesus! What the fuck?"

"Where is he? Where did he go?" Veronica doesn't bother trying to tell her to calm down; Parker's had nothing but people telling her to calm down since everything happened, and she doesn't need it anymore. The RA sputters and gapes at her incredulously, and he tries to choke out an answer.

"I—I don't know, Jesus! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Forget it, Parker," Veronica says disdainfully. "He doesn't know anything. Let's just go."

Something clicks in the RA's head, and his eyes widen as Parker lets him go. "Holy—you're Parker? Logan's girlfriend? Man, that makes sense. Really sorry about what happened to him, he was a great—"

"Shut up," Veronica spits out, because Parker is already halfway to the door and there are tears in her eyes again. She follows her out, watches as she braces herself against the Saturn.

"Now what?" she says thickly, once she's composed herself a little bit, and Veronica marvels at the fact at just how broken she is. How much she really, really cares about Logan, how much she misses him. She'd spent so much time during their relationship convincing herself that it wasn't real, it was just something quick and meaningless designed to piss her off, make her jealous. It was a while before Veronica realized that it wasn't about her, not at all; Parker and Logan really did have some intense feelings for each other. She'd just never really accepted it until now.

"Now we find Mercer," Veronica tells her, and she nods and gets into the car, all purposeful, and she's so convinced that this is real, that they're really going to find Logan like this, and for the first time, Veronica aches for her. Denial is a nice place, but when it really hits Parker that he's gone forever, it's gonna hurt.

It hasn't hit Veronica yet, not really. Or, it has, but it's just been so steady, just a fluid, endless wave of pain and anguish and guilt that won't go away, ever. It's not hitting her in bursts, like it will Parker; it's slow and agonizing and it's not going to end.

Finding Mercer is easy; the guy's popular enough, and all it takes is talking to a few friends and exes. But getting him to talk, that's the hard part, because unconscious guys? Not so forthcoming with the info.

"Shit!" Parker yells out, pushing further into the hotel room Veronica had to practically strip for the room key to.

"Is he breathing?" Veronica demands, following her in and kicking bottles aside as she makes her way over to Mercer's still form on the floor.

"I don't know," she bites out, dropping to her knees next to him and shaking him roughly. "Come on, wake up. Wake up, you fuck. Talk to us."

"Parker—" Veronica says, eyes wide as she holds up a needle to show her. Parker looks at it and her face goes red with fury.

"Don't be dead, you bastard," she tells Mercer. "Don't be dead. Talk to us, now. Come on." She's crying again and rocking back and forth on her knees and Veronica wonders who she's seeing lying there, Mercer or Logan.

"He has a pulse." It's steady and strong and his breathing is slightly shallow, but she realizes with relief that he's just passed out, not overdosed. "He's okay, Parker. He's gonna wake up."

Parker's staring at the needle again, glaring at it. Then she turns her gaze back to Mercer. "Is that what you gave him? Did you shoot up with him? Is that it?" She's gripping Mercer's arm like she wants to rip it out of it's socket, and Veronica thinks about how she slapped him at the service, how she blames him and how she blames Veronica and how she's really, completely justified in the blame. "He doesn't like needles," she says, and now she's not just talking to Mercer anymore, like Veronica doesn't know anything about Logan, like she hasn't known him since they were twelve. "We were—we were walking to the movie theater once, and a dog came out of nowhere and freaked out on us, and Logan needed a tetanus shot. He was such a baby about it—he wouldn't watch, made me hold his hand the whole time. Then he complained the whole way home about how the doctor was way too rough with him, practically stabbed him with the thing, and how he was just jealous he didn't have the chance to save a pretty girl from a vicious dog."

And Veronica can't help but smile, because even though the story wasn't meant to make her smile, it's so Logan that it does. But then the smile drops, because she realizes that it's not her memory to smile over, it's Parker's, and ParkerandLogan's, and it doesn't belong to her. And the stupid, stupid hurt that rushes through her at the thought of their wonderful, _amazing _memories together forces her to lean back against the bed and put her chin on her knees and just wait in awkward, uncomfortable silence.

This is what her friendship with Parker had been like since she and Logan started dating: awkward. So awkward. Parker would try too hard to be nice to her and Veronica wouldn't try at all and Logan would just sort of stand there, fade into the background and ignore Veronica like she had ignored him a year ago and now she knew how he felt. And it pissed her off, because is that what this was? Payback, because she was a bitch to him in high school? That was another rationalization for her, another way to deal with the _awesomeness_ that was ParkerandLogan; it was just petty, childish payback. Not actual, real feelings. God, no.

Mercer stirs after a few hours, blinking groggily up at them. Parker has stopped crying and started pacing, and she practically pounces on him as he sits up.

"Morning, starshine," Veronica drawls. "Have a good sleep?"

He looks confused. "What—what are you doing here?"

"Oh, we were in the neighborhood, thought we'd stop by," she replies amicably, not leaving out the ice in her voice. "Have a chat."

"I want you to tell me everything about that night," Parker tells him, eyes steel and jaw clenched. "Everything you did, everyone you saw, everything you took. Tell me."

Mercer looks reluctant as he wipes drool away from his mouth and continues to gape at them. "Look, I already told the police—"

"Do we look like the police?" Veronica spits. "Just tell us. Now."

Now there's some righteous indignation in his face, which is ridiculous because, dammit, he should know why they need to hear this. Even if he doesn't know the whole reason. "It's a little fuzzy, okay? I was just as out of it as him."

"What were you on?" Parker asks. "Where were you?"

Mercer sighs wearily. "You know the Camelot, right?" Veronica nods, and Parker just glares. "Right. So, a couple of girls asked me to meet them there. It was a little sleazy for my taste, but I figured, what the hell, hot girls, right? So, Logan was with me; he was driving, we were on our way back from this poker game at this guy's house. He was just gonna drop me off and leave, but I asked him to come up with me." He looks pointedly at Parker. "He didn't do anything. Wouldn't let the girls touch him. I swear. He was saintly." He sighs again, and his voice is starting to break, and Veronica realizes that it's not from whatever drug he took; he's either a great actor, or really fucking regretful.

"What did you guys take, Mercer?" Veronica swallows hard before adding the next sentence. "Whatever it was—he was really, really freaked out about it."

"It was just meth, okay? The girls had it, and I don't know, he was acting so uptight, I just wanted him to loosen up. So I bugged him about it till he took some. And we were all fine at first. I mean, it wasn't anything crazy. And then, I don't know, he just—he freaked the fuck out. Puked once, started yelling about how his arms hurt, how they were gonna—gonna fall off or something, I dunno, he wasn't making any sense. Then he took off, ran out to his car and left. That's the last I saw of him." Mercer looks at the girls solemnly. "Look, there was nothing wrong with the drugs, okay, we all took some and we were fine. He was just, I don't know, paranoid, that happens sometimes, and he wasn't okay to drive, he shouldn't have driven, I would've stopped him if I wasn't—" He breaks off, swallowing hard, and looks up at them. "That's it, I swear. That's all that happened."

Veronica and Parker aren't looking at him; they're looking at each other, because they both know it: their first lead is a dead-end, and now they're going to have to work to find another one.

The leave without saying anything to him, and Mercer doesn't complain.

The next lead is kinda dropped into their laps. Or, really, Veronica's lap; Parker isn't there, is at class or in her room or driving along the stretch of road where Logan's car supposedly went smoosh and flew into the ocean.

The next lead is the one that gives Veronica hope, and makes her, finally, really, truly believe that he's alive.

Weeks after Mercer, Dick sits down next to her in the food court, where she's sitting with her cheek in her hand and fiddling with her sandwich. He's glaring at her, but everyone glares at her these days, so that's not so new. "So, it's not enough that you got him killed, right? Now you had to go all stalker-bitch and steal his old car?"

Veronica can't help it; her jaw actually drops. "Excuse me?"

"Dumb blonde really doesn't work for you, Ronnie. Believe me, I know. So just forget the bullshit and tell me where the XTerra is."

And now she really is stumped. "I really have _no _idea what you're talking about, Dick." But she wants to, because this sounds interesting.

"Oh yeah, of course you don't."

"What's going on? The XTerra's missing?"

Dick nods, still glaring at her. "Stolen right out of Bradley Schroeder's driveway the other night. Guy paid Logan an arm and a leg for that car, and he wants it back."

She feels her eyes go wide, and her heart starts beating faster, and she jumps up, digging into her bag for her cell phone. "I want to talk to him, Dick. I want to know everything he knows."

The bleached blonde rolls his eyes. "God, you really are psycho. Let me guess, you have a shrine built in Logan's honor, right? Added the XTerra because of all the _memories_?" He stands up, too, and Veronica braces herself for the verbal attack, because she knows it's coming, and she's not even on the defensive. "He never loved you, you know. Never. He thought he did, but it was all about Lilly—you were the only one left." The words shouldn't hurt, but they do, because she can't help but believe them, however ridiculous they may be. "I'm just glad he had a chance to be with someone who would treat him right before he died." Veronica should be glad, too, but she can't.

She doesn't argue, doesn't shoot back the venom that Dick's expecting from her; she just looks at him sadly. "Are you going to tell me where to find Bradley Schroeder?"

Dick seems to burn up with fury. "Go fuck yourself. I'm not going to tell you anything." He starts storming away, but he stops and turns back. "He was my brother, you know? And he's dead because of you. You've done some shitty things, Mars, but this tops it. I really don't know how you can live with yourself."

She can't really live with herself. It's hard to breathe, and hard to move, and hard to speak and eat and sleep and live. It's damn near impossible, really. But now it's starting to look more possible. Because only one thing is going through her mind right now: he's not dead. Parker's right. He's not dead. She can feel it now, too.

"Parker," Veronica barks as a greeting when the other girl answers her cell phone.

"I didn't give you this number for girl talk, Veronica. If there's something important—"

"Logan's alive," she blurts out, because she needs to say it out loud, needs to do more than just feel it within every inch of her. Parker's quiet for a minute, and she thinks she can hear a slow sigh of relief, but the next second it's gone, her voice ice again.

"Yeah, I _know that. _We're trying to prove it, remember? Tell me you have something."

"I have something."

Bradley Schroeder's house is small, painted robin's egg blue with white trim. It doesn't look like the house of a college junior, but that's what it is, or so says the student directory. His girlfriend answers the door, and that makes more sense.

"So, you're telling me you believe that Logan's alive because his old SUV was stolen?" Parker was justifiably incredulous on the car ride over; Veronica isn't sure that anyone that didn't know Logan in high school can fully comprehend his connection with his XTerra.

"You don't understand. Logan _loved _that car. The fact that's it's missing—I'm telling you, it means something."

"If he loved it so much, why did he sell it?"

And a lump formed in Veronica's throat, nearly choking her completely as she remembered. "I—I made him."

And the thing is, Veronica can't even remember _why. _It's just another thing to add to the list of the horrible, awful things she'd done to him in the course of their relationship. She remembers the fight, remembers how she had been adamant and stubborn and so had he, and how she'd slammed out of the suite and hadn't called him for three days. Finally, when she had figured out that she was being an unreasonable snot, she had gone back to him, only to discover that he'd already sold it in the fear that she would break up with him otherwise.

Veronica never apologized. She never admitted that she was being an unreasonable snot. It's just another thing to add to the list of the things she wishes she hadn't done, wishes she had fixed and made right with him. He didn't deserve any of it, not at all, and she was so unfair to him it was scary.

Parker snorted when she heard this and turned to look out the passenger window. "Of course you did."

Schroeder's girlfriend graciously welcomes them into her home, and chats about nothing at all while they wait for Schroeder to finish watching some Discovery Channel special. Parker just stares stonily at the girl, so it's up to Veronica to keep the conversation going, and when it trails off awkwardly, she has to stop herself from taking a page out of Parker's book and dragging Schroeder away from the TV by his ear.

Finally, he joins them away from the TV, and he recognizes Veronica instantly. "Wait a minute. You're the ex, right? The one that got Logan killed? Casablancas was just talking about you. Are you the one that took the XTerra?"

Veronica sighs and steels herself to answer, but Parker beats her to it. "No, she didn't, okay? We're trying to figure out who did."

Schroeder rolls his eyes. "If I knew that, I'd have it back, right?"

"What happened?"

"The other night, I came home, parked it in the driveway, locked it, and went inside. Next day, I come out and it's gone." Parker sighs and glares at Veronica, because this isn't much of a lead. But Veronica knows that this is _something._ She can feel it just like Parker can, and she wants the other girl to understand that.

"Okay, well, thanks for the info. We're going to look into it, I promise. Did you activate the anti-theft system?"

"Yeah, but the OnStar dudes said they couldn't get a signal. Like, whatever. I still think you have it." Schroeder turns to Parker. "Dick thinks she's making a shrine—"

Parker walks out without acknowledging him, and Veronica follows her, as usual.

"This was a waste of time," Parker tells her as they get into the car. "Just like Mercer was. Do you seriously think that, whatever happened with Logan, wherever he is, he'd come back and steal his old car just because he felt like it?"

Veronica needs to make her understand. "I don't know, Parker. I know it doesn't make much sense, but I just have this feeling—he loved that car, okay? He didn't want to get rid of it. I think that if—if he had to be away from home, away from the people that he loves, he'd want to have that car, and all the memories it has."

"Memories of what? Of you?"

"Of Lilly," Veronica counters, and Parker shuts up about it.

"So, where do you think he is?"

"I don't know. Wherever that car is."

Parker nods stiffly, then turns to look out the passenger window again. "So let's find the car."

It's not as easy as finding people usually is. Without the anti-theft homing device, it's damn near impossible. They talk to neighbors, trying to figure out if anyone saw anything. They send out emails and flyers like it's a lost fucking dog, asking if anybody sees it.

They get three calls—three bright yellow XTerra's, spotted in the areas around Neptune. Each time, it's such a letdown when it's not Logan or anyone who might connect them to Logan.

On the third try, Parker decks the car's owner, and they both wind up in lock-up, sitting side by side on a cot, close together because they really, really don't want to touch anyone else.

Keith and Mac show up to pick them up, and both of them wear matching scowls of disappointment as they bail them out. While Keith talks to local officers and Parker washes her hands off, Mac confronts Veronica.

"What are you _doing_?"

Veronica folds her arms across her chest and ducks her head. "I—you _know _what we're doing, Mac."

"No, I really don't. Logan—Logan is dead, Veronica. You know that." Mac's voice is strained and worried and tired, like she's had this conversation way too many times with Parker.

But this is one argument that Mac's not going to win. Because Veronica _knows _that Logan is alive, she just knows it. The XTerra's out there somewhere, and with it, Logan is, too, and they're going to find him and bring him back to them. "No, I don't know that, Mac. I don't—I don't know anything anymore, except that Logan's alive. It's way too much of a coincidence that the XTerra's gone not even a month after he—"

"Are you even listening to yourself? God, do you hear how insane you sound?"

"I love your faith in me, Mac, really, we've come so far in our friendship."

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't have much faith in chasing ghosts for the rest of my life." Mac pauses, steeling herself, getting herself under control, and Veronica knows that she cares. Knows that she's worried and angry and hell, maybe even still grieving a little. But Veronica had thought she'd understand. She thought she'd at least give her a chance. "Look, I want you to stop this. Stop helping Parker investigate, stop giving her hope—she doesn't need this. She needs to—she needs to move on, grieve—"

"And what about what I need?" Veronica wants to know, tears welling up in her eyes uncontrollably. "I need _Logan. _Do you really think that this is about Parker? This is about finding Logan and making sure he's okay—"

"Logan was my friend," Mac bursts out. "Logan became my friend when he started dating Parker, and you know what? He was a better person when he was with her. She was good for him. She treated him right. You have no right to need Logan anymore. And Logan's my friend, and it was hard to lose him, but I'm accepting it, and dealing with it. You can't live in denial forever, Veronica, and you can't bring Parker down with you. I won't let you."

Veronica's eyes burn into the brunette's. "So that's what this is, huh? You blame me too, right? Everyone blames me, the heartless bitch who wouldn't open the door for him. I blame me too, okay? I do. That's why I have to find him and—"

"He's dead!" she yells back. "He's dead, and he's not coming back, and you can't find him, Veronica. I'm sorry, okay, but you can't. Leave Parker alone."

"Parker came to _me_—"

"And it was a mistake," Mac says softly, calming down now. "She won't come to you again."

"Mac—"

"Don't, Veronica," she pleads, voice barely above a whisper, and when she leaves, Veronica realizes that this is punishment. This is her payment, her atonement, for doing what she did to Logan, for treating him the way she did, for not opening the door. She was stupid to think she'd never pay for it, and she's glad she is, even though it doesn't really help the guilt.

And Veronica's never felt more sure of herself, never so certain that Logan's alive. Because she'll pay for the rest of her life if it means he's out there somewhere, alive and okay.

Her father doesn't say much as he drives her home, but the unspoken words are floating through the silence: _What are you doing, Veronica? This isn't healthy. This isn't how you're supposed to deal with this. This isn't how this is supposed to go. _And maybe it isn't. But Veronica's given up on Logan way too much, and now, when he really needs her, she's not going to do it again.

She kisses her father on the cheek and thanks him for bailing her out and she goes to bed and she dreams about Logan.

They're in the XTerra, in the ocean, and Logan's pointing out through the windshield. "See it?" he asks her.

"See what?"

"All the red?"

She looks out. "All I see is blue."

Logan chuckles and smirks, and it makes her melt a little inside. "You only ever see what you want to see." And boy, does she hate introspective Logan.

She looks away from the windshield for a minute, looking at him, memorizing him, and when she looks back, she sees the red—splattered over the windshield, dripping through the starburst of suddenly cracked glass. It's a second before she realizes it's blood, and when she comes to the conclusion that it's Logan's blood, she looks over to him and he's gone.

She wakes with a shout and she just wants him back.

They have to work in secret now. It's harder, but not that hard. It's still working. Still trying to find him.

Anyone watching them would think they're having a secret, steamy lesbian affair, which is ridiculous because Parker still can't stand Veronica, and Veronica's stomach hurts whenever she looks at Parker and thinks of her with Logan.

It's a slow process; they chase down lead after lead, none of them panning out, none of them meaning anything. And they continue to search for that XTerra, which continues to allude them. Months pass, and the leads are continuing to dry up, but the more time that passes, the more Veronica believes.

It's supposed to be the other way around, really. The more time that passes, the more she's supposed to figure out that he's really gone, not coming back, accept it and move on. But that's not how it works.

How it works is this: Veronica's putting all her faith into Logan, into him being alive, and she's not leaving any room for anything else. She doesn't talk to people anymore and even though most of them are over it, they don't talk to her because she doesn't talk to them. She doesn't put any effort into her school work anymore; she tells herself there's no point, because finding him is so much more important than anything else. College, friends, life—it all seems so small next to him, like it's impossible without him.

In the summer, Parker stays with Mac and her family instead of going home, and Veronica has to admire her—there are only a few people telling her to quit, but everyone is on Parker's back about it, and she won't give up. Her faith is as steady and unwavering as Veronica's, maybe even more so, no matter how hopeless it seems.

Despite every intention not to, Veronica finds out more and more about Parker and Logan's relationship, and how real it was. Parker tells her stories, because she knows they hurt her, and she still thinks Veronica deserves it. And Veronica fully gets why Parker won't give up.

"I've been with other guys before, okay?" she tells her. "I've—I've never been with someone like him, though. He just—always made me feel so special, and so loved, all the time. But he didn't make a huge deal out of it—it wasn't sappy and cheesy and overdone at all. It was just—there, always there. I thought it was fake, at first, and that it would go away after a few weeks, but it never did. It was real, all of it was real, and I'll never forget it. It's why I have to get him back."

Veronica doesn't think about what will happen when (not if, never if) they do find him. She doesn't think about how they might have to make him choose; and she doesn't want to think about what his choice might be (Parker, always Parker). She tells herself that all that matters is that he'll be okay, and alive, and that's all that she needs to know. But she catches herself pretending, there, because God, she needs to know so much more. Maybe she's getting better, she thinks. Maybe if she can pretend now, it means she's healing. She doesn't want to heal, though.

The day they find the XTerra, _the _XTerra, she cries and cries and cries, like she hasn't cried in a long time. It's months after the summer, almost to the one-year mark, and she and Parker drive to Boulder City, Nevada, and there it is: in a junk-yard, smashed up like it had met something solid face-first. They both cry upon seeing it, because what if it's too late? The junk-yard worker can't tell them much about the owner, just that it had been brought there by police after some pile-up. Lots of people died, he tells them, but he has no clue who.

Veronica has a feeling about Boulder City, Nevada; she knows that he's here somewhere, but she has no idea how to find him anymore. They check the hospitals for any aliases Logan might have, and nothing comes up. They scour the phone book for red flags, leads—they know him better than anybody, and they can't find him here. They ask around and they feel _so close, _but nobody recognizes him, and when Parker gets Mac's ninth message and Veronica realizes that her father's ready to send the National Guard out after her, they head home to Neptune.

"He's there," Parker tells her firmly, and she's glad to hear someone else say it out loud. "I can feel it, Veronica. He's there."

Things change after finding the XTerra. Veronica tells Parker they need to go back to the beginning; back to Mercer. If Logan's in Boulder City, he's there for a reason, and that reason has to be part of that night. Veronica starts digging around at the Camelot, trying to figure out about employees and guests that might have seen something that night. Parker starts trying to find Mercer, who seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth, or at least anywhere near Neptune.

Her father catches her coming out of the Camelot, and it's like a sort of intervention; he's desperate to make her see sense.

"It's been a year, Veronica," Keith tells her. "You have no idea how worried I am. Especially that you've kept it from me."

"This is exactly why I've kept it from you," Veronica retorts hotly, and she's right, she knows she's right, and she's not going to concede this. "I have work to do."

"Logan is dead, honey, please, you have to believe that."

"All I have to believe is that he's okay," she says, and her voice shakes and maybe she's not as firm with this as she thinks she is. And rather than have him figure that out, she leaves, tracks down the maid that she'd found out about, and questions her about that night.

She finds out that the girls that Mercer and Logan met were killed that same night, in that fucking hotel room. She finds out that it was kept quiet, that Feds jumped in immediately and paid off all of the staff and that one of the guys (Veronica realizes that it's Logan) ran off while they were trying to sort everything out. She finds out a lot of things. She finds out that Mercer lied, and she needs to tell Parker.

When Parker picks up her cell phone, she's crying, and Veronica can't figure out what kind of tears they are. "Parker! Parker, Mercer lied, okay? Those girls that night, the ones with the drugs, they were killed, and the Feds stepped in, and—"

"It's over, Veronica."

Her blood goes cold at that. "What? What do you mean? Look, get away from Mercer, he's trouble—"

"This isn't—it's over, okay? Logan's dead. I—I know it now. I—he's dead."

"What? No. Parker, what's going on?"

"It's too much, Veronica. You should move on. Start dealing. I'm sorry that—I'm sorry that I started this, with you, I never should've asked for your help—"

"No, okay? No. Logan isn't dead. It's gotta be something Federal, Parker. They probably caught up with him that night, after he left my house—they have him somewhere, he's probably in that city, we can—"

"I don't blame you anymore, Veronica. So you can stop blaming yourself. I'm so sorry about everything. I really did love him, you know? But I think it's just time." There's something strange in Parker's voice; it's not as sad as it should be. It's resigned, relieved, almost robotic.

And this doesn't make any sense to her. This morning, Parker was gung ho and all for finding him; and now she's had some kind of epiphany, some moment of clarity where she knows that it was all a mistake, that she's ready to give up now? Veronica doesn't buy it. Not at all.

"Parker, stop it, okay? Tell me what you know. Don't you dare fucking give up now; do you know how close we are? So close, Parker. So fucking close. You can't give up now, please." There are tears streaming down her face and she's not really paying attention to the road and a truck honks loudly at her and she ignores it.

"I'm sorry, Veronica. I have to do this. It's just time."

"Parker, no, dammit! It's not time, it's not fucking time! Don't you dare back out on this!"

"I'm sorry." And she hangs up then, leaving Veronica alone to throw her phone at the passenger seat and sob in her car.

It's a few days before she realizes that she's not going to see Parker again, and she burns with an anger she's never, ever felt before.

Fucking bitch.

She thinks about death a lot, now. It's the two year mark and she's never stopped hoping, never stopped searching and believing, but she can't stop thinking about death. Death is unreal to her, which is ridiculous, because she's seen it so many times, dealt with it far too much. But still, she can't comprehend it, not for herself, and not for Logan. Especially not for Logan. He seems too big for death, too strong and alive. He transcends death, to her. Maybe because he was never afraid of it; he conquered death by not fearing it, not letting it get to him. And maybe she's idealizing him, but maybe not, maybe he's just Logan, and death really can't touch him.

Her father wants her to get help. Mac wants to know where the fuck Parker went. Wallace wants her to just be Veronica again.

Veronica just wants Logan.

It takes another year, but she has an address; finally. The address is in Boulder fucking City, Nevada, and she wants to cry, but it's an address.

And she knows this is it; knows that he's here, and he's alive and this is what she wanted, isn't it? But she is parked outside the house and she's got a terrible feeling in her stomach. The house is small, painted robin's egg blue with white trim and it doesn't look like the house of a would-be college senior. But that's what it is, or so says her information.

And she doesn't know what to expect when she goes up there and knocks on his door, but she just expects him, alive and okay, hidden from her by outside forces, but completely ready and willing to give her the chance she's been giving him for three years.

She's not expecting to see Parker when the door is opened, Logan coming up behind her, but that's what she sees. And she wants to laugh and cry at the same time because now she knows: he's alive. He's definitely fucking alive, and she was right all along.

But it's funny how all her hope is gone.

****

-Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me-


End file.
